Dostadning = Death Cleaning

I've done routine house cleaning for years, spring cleaning, deep cleaning, cleaning when we move from house to house, downsizing, nesting for the arrival of my little girl (years ago), decluttering, daily chores and now-a-days, barn cleaning and mucking of stalls. But wait! I can now add a new aspect and type of cleaning to my life. Death cleaning or Dostadning (Swedish). Cleaning like your going to die tomorrow. I never even knew it was something people consciously did. Granted, maybe most people don't do this. Maybe I'm just getting to the age where I'm thinking more about it. Is there an age this starts happening and it's a secret until then? I mean, when do I start doing this? And how do I go about it? Shall I talk about this to others? Are they doing it too? So many questions.
It all started with a pan-in-the-face thought of "if I die right now, who's going to have to clean up all my stuff?!' I about gave myself a stroke, 3 TIA's and a heart attack all at one time just thinking about how much work that would be. There's only one thing certain in life when we are born, and it's that we will die. Everything else in the middle is life, and life is never certain. Sometimes I really think I may be in control of my life, or know the direction it's going, but I really don't. Every time I think back 10 years, I know I would have NEVER guessed I'd be when I am now. Did that make sense? I'm 54, and my 44 year old self would have never imagined myself living in Gunter, on acreage, with cows as my neighbors and farm animals of my own. At 24, I would never have known that at 34 I'd be married with a beautiful baby girl. I have never been able to project out the "next" 10 years of my life, and have no idea where I might be at age 64, or 74 and beyond. I'm not necessarily interested in knowing my future, but planning is a big part of life. I don't live willy-nilly day to day, I'd like to think I sort-of have a plan. Or do I? One minute I'm practicing being mindful of my day to day activities, and the next minute I'm thinking of plans in a month from now. As I mentioned, I really don't know what's going to happen in my life, I just think I do.
So with this in mind, I started looking around me a little closer. It was so easy to say, "David has SO much stuff! So many material things, collections and things he does not use". Yep, I thought that many times in my life, and seemed convinced that I didn't. Yes, I've gotten rid of many, many things of my own over the last few years, but I've also bought many new things. It seems I haven't really downsized like I would have expected to. I donate things, and give things away, but if I keep buying things, I'm not really making the progress I'd like to. I needed to acknowledge the out-with-the-old and in-with-the-new was not a good idea while practicing the notion of non-attachment. The two do not go hand in hand.
I digress. So as new revelations have occurred to me, like all these materialistic things I own are going to be someone else's problem when I die, and since the only thing I know for sure is that I'm going to die, I better get on the stick and do something about this. And so I did. I sent David an email stating my intentions of Death Cleaning. I'm going to clean up my life so that others won't have to, and I outline this in my email to him. (By the way, I send David emails far more often than he may prefer.) I receive a reply back from him shortly that basically said "okay, but leave my stuff alone". Okay then, I think. I'll get my own stuff cleaned up so fast, I'll be back with you soon.
That was where I went off track. Getting my own things cleaned up so that others won't have to was - and is not - an easy task. At first it feels like deep cleaning, decluttering and downsizing all in one fail swoop. But then I looked up and realized that I still have so much stuff left. I rationalize it like this: but I need it to live, I need those clothes, that bedding, those towels, etc. Those gloves, those jackets, oh my goodness I have so much stuff still.
I went back to square one to collect my thoughts again. First of all, I tell myself because I'm trying this 'death cleaning' doesn't mean it's morbid. After all, I've been practicing non-attachment to things for a number of years now. But this is different. It's one step further than non-attachment. And I can reap the benefits of it while I'm still alive. I realize I've begun this process because of my own recent thoughts of mortality. One day, when I'm not around anymore, my family would have to take care of all my stuff, and I just don't think that's fair.
My plan? Keep what I love and get rid of the rest. And so I began with a bang. I took car loads (of my stuff) to Goodwill, began giving things to other people, and got my 'stuff' down to a more manageable size. But there's still more work to do. It's a matter of shifting my mindset, over and over, as I widdle my things down to having only the things around me I love. I realized I love a lot of stuff.  Yet, already I have noticed my fondness of less-is-more. I've been riding this train of tidiness for a few years now, and I love the ride. I love the look of less things in a room, which creates less chaos in my soul. I used to tell Lauren when she was younger, "Your spirit is in chaos because your closet is in chaos." Cleaning up your environment will clean up your spirit and soul. And it has, as I have embraced a new chapter of cleaning up my life, in preparation for the only thing certain in my life. Death.
It's also created an outlet to talk to family about death, our possessions and what's really important in life. I look back at my life and think I've really been death cleaning all along. All those types of cleaning I've been doing is really about decluttering and sorting out the things around me......just in case I step off the curb. I've also come to the conclusion that death cleaning is never truly finished. It only ends with death. Then it stops.
Until then, I'm having fun with it. I'm going to see how minimal I can get my stuff. It's a process that I now have a whole new outlook on. My 64 year old self will thank my 54 year old self for starting early. Your welcome.

I better go streamline some more,
Cyndi